“Making a man happy, for more than a few seconds after consumption, is not very interesting to a consumer society; for them an unsatisfied man is preferable. Beauty and art, therefore, is fundamental therapy today.”

“My work is personal, containing symbols and codes for things that are taking place in my life or what I yearn for. The stakes are high, so when others disapprove of your work, they essentially disapprove of you. It is a great risk. The life of an artist is full of self-doubt and isolation. Yet this is a part of everyone’s experience.”

“I like to entertain the idea that we live the same lives over and over. This is the thought behind this painting: that we live our lives in these circles, and all of our time will be experienced again.”

“I think synchronicities are most noticeable when we look backward. In the moment, our experiences can feel disjointed, especially when the unexpected happens. But when you stand from a higher vantage point looking backward, the individual pieces of your experience fit together with a poetic elegance that just feels right.”

“I am, of course, not entirely sure of what is going on in these images because, were I too certain, I would have no need to attempt them. But the dissatisfaction, or ‘frustration,’ as you call it, is very much a necessary ingredient. Maybe even the only ingredient.”

“She came each day to stand in front of the murder ballad paintings. She had grown up listening to all that music. ‘I just stand here,’ she told me, ‘And the paintings pull the marrow from my chest.’ ”

“I want to somehow express what it’s like to be in their skin. I believe this is what art can do at its best. Maybe this way we will feel less alone in the world, more compassionate to each other, work with, instead of against, one other.”

These women wear their wounds with pride. Every solution in life requires a struggle. The mistakes of the pasts, the wounds of pain and loss, and the icy stabs of betrayal. And yet none of these specters weigh them down or define their destinies.

The red twilight, the turning point, is manifested in the female figure, plunged to the ground by three men – who represent the night. The child symbolizes the vulnerable remaining rays of the sunlight. The moon, which represents the illumination in Heraclit’s model, lights the way through the darkness and reappears as the lantern brandished by one of the soldiers.

One of the gifts of Aleah Chapin's body-of-work is the idea that true intimacy is achieved first and foremost by revealing oneself honestly. That through vulnerability we are able to deeply connect. One’s imperfections can actually make connection with others deeper, stronger. More real.